Season 2 Missing Scenes
by V'Kotik
Summary: Some TnT scenes for season 2 episodes, that we unfortunately never saw...
1. Shockwave, Part II

**Date:**August 18th, 2009  
**Legalese:**All characters belong to the powers that be and I can't do a damn thing.  
**Genre:**TnT, Missing Scene  
**Setting:**Through Season 2  
**Authors Note:**

_After having read Alelou's fantastic series of missing scenes for series 1, (_.net/s/5058323/1/Missing_TnT_Scenes_Season_One) _I decided to do the same for the other 3 series. I did not attempt to write some for series 1, since Alelou's work can hardly be topped. Alelou kindly gave me her ok to try my hand on series 2, since she doesn't plan anything in that direction for the near future, but I wanted to make sure that I don't 'steal' an idea from her :-)_

_You should read Alelou's missing scenes beforehand, because I will reference them here and in following chapters._

_A big thank you goes to **Dinah** for beta-reading the story and to **WarpGirl** for her input and constructive criticism. :-)_

Shockwave Part 2

_This is really getting old!_ Trip thought as he watched Ambassador Soval rant away on the view screen. This cranky old Vulcan could really be damn annoying. His knee jerk reaction was to see this only as typical know-it-all Vulcan arrogance, but he had seen otherwise.

In a few days it would be a whole Earth year since Subcommander T'Pol had agreed to rough it among over 80 humans, and the prospect of not seeing her again added to the frustration of being recalled. When she came aboard for the first time, it would never had occurred to him that he would be sad about seeing the Vulcan chaperone go, but she had proven them all wrong. She was still distant and aloof, but he had pierced her defensive walls on more than one occasion during the past year, and he knew that she considered herself a part of the crew. He felt a strange interest in getting to know her better.

"_..._A danger to the Quadrant. Regardless of the evidence presented here, I plan to advise the Vulcan High Command not to change its recommendation to Starfleet. Enterprise should be recalled." When Soval ended his lecture, Trip tried to hold back his frustration, but failed miserably.

"You guys have wanted to scrub this mission from day one. We proved to you that we didn't kill those thirty-six hundred people, but you don't want to hear it. You're pathetic! "

His own rant was cut short by Admiral Forrest's angry interjection.

_What the hell is he prattling on about? _Trip thought as Captain Archer started his gazelle-in-Africa metaphor. _Well here goes nothing, Cap'n. Soval will slap that one right back in your face. Why don't ya just say, 'We're blithering idiots, but heck, we're learning? __**Really**__ helpful, Cap'n. _Trip forced himself not to facepalm or sigh at the Captain's mediocre rhetoric skills.

* * *

_While Commander Tucker's outburst was predictable and not helpful, this crude metaphor is potentially harmful to the goal of continuing this mission. _T'Pol had difficulties understanding the Captain's motivation in telling Ambassador Soval that they would be making more errors in the future. Before Ambassador Soval could use Archer's unfortunate speech against them, however, she decided to show the Ambassador the flaws in his own logic.

"The concept of learning from one's mistakes shouldn't be difficult for a Vulcan of your wisdom to understand, Ambassador. Our ancestors discovered how to suppress their volatile emotions only after centuries of savage conflict. You spoke of the destruction of the monastery. What about the Vulcan listening post that Captain Archer found there? I would hope that our people have learned from those events that using a sacred sanctuary to spy on others was a dishonorable practice, to say the least. I don't wish to contradict Captain Archer, but learning from one's mistakes is hardly exclusive to humans. Their mission should be allowed to continue."

* * *

_Atta Girl! Now that's how you mop__ up t__he floor with that cranky ol' git. _Trip had to summon all his control to not grin from ear to ear. Just for good measure he shot a glance at the two Vulcan guards who were standing at the door. Their stoic faces belied their probable shock or disbelief at witnessing the Subcommander's stand-off with Soval, he smiled inwardly and let his eyes drift back to the petite frame of the Vulcan science officer.

* * *

"Where are ya going?" Trip asked as he fell in step beside T'Pol.

"I am on the way to the mess hall."

"Mind if I tag along?"

"No."

Both walked side by side for a while, before entering the mess hall. While T'Pol went for chamomile tea, Trip settled for coffee.

"Thanks for that little speech by the way. That was mighty impressive," Trip said with an honest smile.

"There is no need to express gratitude. I merely offered my opinion on the matter."

"Well a lot of people around here will think otherwise. I think you have won quite a bit of respect with many people here. And it's not just the respect they have for you as first officer; it's good ol' well-deserved respect."

"You may be correct. Ensign Rao was visibly more at ease today in his interaction with me."

"Told you so. Any progress with the other people in your department?"

"Your advice on improving my interaction with the members of my department was most helpful. Unfortunately, most are still having some difficulty interacting with me. I am often confused why completely logical courses of action do not yield the expected results."

"What do you mean?"

"Crewman Naiman delivered a scan analysis today and his calculations contained an error. I took the time to review the whole process step by step with him to refresh his memory. It was logical to expect that he would welcome the time I spent on educating him; instead he was visibly upset."

"Was it stupid mistake?"

"No, it was a minor rounding error in a central calculation. The analysis was complex and well done overall. This one error, however, placed the result's inaccuracy beyond acceptable tolerance."

"Well. That's what you should have told him. Tell him that his analysis is basically well done, if not for that error. Then point out the mistake and let him correct it himself. Challenge your people to learn from their mistakes, just as you told the Ambassador today."

"I see. Do I correctly deduce that the crewman perceived my course of action as overly patronizing?"

"'Fraid so. Tell you what, why don't we make our tea break a regular practice? We can meet here after our shifts or during lunch break and talk about things that confuse you. In no time, things will go better in your department."

"That would be agreeable. I shall return to my quarters now." T'Pol rose from her seat.

"Good night, Subcommander. And thanks again for your support."

"Good night, Commander."

Trip allowed himself to smile as he watched the science officer leave the mess hall.


	2. Carbon Creek

**2. Carbon Creek**

_Authors Note: This is not a missing scenes collection in the strict sense, it's more like a framework with a prolog and an epilog for the episode, which we saw on TV._

"Ah, Commander," Phlox mused as Commander Tucker strode into sickbay. "What can I do for you this time?"

"I need to know if alcohol is dangerous to Vulcans or if it has any lasting effects on them."

"No, it has no lasting effect on them, unless consumed in large amounts over a considerable period of time. May I ask why you need this information? Do you suspect that Subcommander T'Pol is drinking?"

"Don't worry, Phlox. I don't think she ever drank alcohol. Today is T'Pol's first anniversary as an _Enterprise _crew member. The Cap'n thinks she might wanna join us in a toast on the occasion, but I want to be sure that she won't end up here," Trip answered.

"That is very thoughtful of you. Untrained Vulcans don't have much tolerance for alcohol. I will have to depend on your judgment to make sure that even if she allows herself to drink alcohol, the amount must not be excessive. The effects of inebriation do not show up as quickly on a Vulcan as they do with humans, so at the first signs that she is having trouble speaking or moving steadily, make sure that she does not drink any more alcohol."

"It's only a toast during the evening meal with the Cap'n and me. We don't plan to introduce her to binge-drinking, Doctor. You said untrained Vulcans...?"

"With sufficient training Vulcans can exercise a fascinating amount of control over their bodily functions. They can fall into a near-death trance to heal themselves, among other things and with enough experience they are virtually resistant to the intoxicating effects of alcohol and other substances. However it takes many years to master the art, and Subcommander T'Pol is nowhere near old enough to have sufficient experience."

"Thank you, Phlox." Trip nodded and left sickbay.

_Not old enough, huh? Maybe she'll tell me this time..._

* * *

Trip was surprised about the nod from T'Pol, when the Captain raised the bottle in her direction in an unspoken offer to join the toast this time. Usually he had accepted her refusal of alcohol, but in his opinion her first anniversary merited an exception.

"Ever drank that stuff?" Trip whispered to her with a slightly concerned expression, while the Captain was busy opening the bottle.

"No," T'Pol answered in a low voice.

"Better be careful then. Phlox says you guys can't take much of it."

She nodded and made a mental note to ask him, why he was discussing the effects of ethanol on Vulcans with Phlox.

Captain Archer came around to fill the glasses. "Say when," he instructed as he began to pour the wine into her glass.

"When," she replied after only about one inch and Trip had to fight hard to avoid laughing out loud.

* * *

T'Pol was just starting to tell about T'Mir's visit to the patent office, when Trip noticed that T'Pol's eyes were starting to become glassy and unfocused. Seemingly what amounted to maybe one and a half glass of wine was all it took to make this particular Vulcan tipsy.

Just in that second Archer took the bottle to refill her glass. Suddenly Trip's foot made contact with the Captains shinbone. The engineer shook his head ever so slightly. Archer noticed the attempt at covert communication and put the bottle back down. He made no attempt to ask the reason for this; that could wait until later.

* * *

When T'Pol left for her quarters, Trip noticed, that she was staggering slightly. He had been observing her intently all the time – one could call it ogling – so it had not escaped his attention.

"Care to explain to me, why you start kicking me, Trip?" the Captain asked as he split the remainder of the bottle's content between his and Trip's glasses.

"Well, I've become quite good at reading her lately and I saw she'd had about enough. You know how she is. If anybody had seen her wasted, it would have given her fits. I don't like her 'superior' image that she's so hell bent to keep up, but she's starting to get along better with everybody. We shouldn't undo all that by making her lose control."

"Well, you must have gotten **very **good at reading her. I didn't notice anything until I saw that wobble before she left. I didn't know that Vulcans can't take alcohol. You might have saved her dignity just in time," Archer said in bewilderment.

"I hope so. Good to know we're better than the Vulcans at **something**, though. Y'know, it's fun yanking her chain, but embarrassing her would be crossing the line," Trip chuckled.

"It's been a long day, Trip. Guess we better catch some sleep ourselves," Archer said as he left the mess with Trip in tow.

Unlike the Captain, however, who went straight to his quarters, Trip made a stop on the bridge. "Ensign," he addressed the young crew member, who manned the graveyard shift on the tactical station. "Can you scan for Subcommander T'Pol? We've got an issue with the long range sensors."

"The Subcommander is in her quarters. She's probably asleep. Her position matches the coordinates of the bunk, sir."

"How do you know where the Subcommander's bunk is Ensign?" Trip asked wide-eyed.

"All quarters have the same layout, sir and I know where mine is." the Ensign answered with a smile.

"Dammit, guess I'll have to work it out myself. Thanks, good eyes Ensign." Trip left the bridge and headed towards sick bay. With the safety of knowing that she made it home in one piece, it was time to take care of the morning hangover.

"Ah, Commander, what can I do for you?" the Doctor asked, while he kept feeding the inhabitants of his formidable zoo.

"Doctor, uh... do Vulcans have hangovers?"

That got the doctor's attention. "Is Subcommander T'Pol inebriated?"

"Dunno. Well, she staggered a bit when she left and since you told me it shows slowly with them, I'm a bit worried that it might get worse."

"How much did the Subcommander drink?"

"'Bout a glass an' a half of burgundy."

"Ah, there's nothing to worry about. That's merely enough to mildly unsettle an inexperienced Vulcan, but I'll look after her. Human headaches in the morning are nothing in comparison to what a Vulcan has to expect. I'm sure she'll appreciate your concern. Good night, Commander."

"Thanks, Phlox."

* * *

"Come in," T'Pol answered weakly, when the door chime rang.

"Subcommander."

"Doctor? I was about to call you, but how did you know that I am experiencing problems?"

"Well, a very worried Chief Engineer took care of that. Do you feel any symptoms of intoxication?"

"I'm experiencing dizziness."

"Why didn't you come to sick bay directly?"

"I was not experiencing it when I returned. It only started recently."

"I understand. Don't worry, I'll give you a mild sedative, and I'll leave you a hypospray for the headache in the morning." Phlox explained, while he injected the sedative.

"Thank you Doctor."

"My pleasure. Good night, Subcommander."

* * *

"Tea, chamomile."

T'Pol's keen eye soon spotted the chief engineer, sitting on a table on the far side of the mess hall. As the doctor had predicted, she felt less than fresh when she woke up and the pain subsided only after she had injected herself with the hypospray that the doctor had left her as a precaution.

"May I?" she asked.

"Of course. You ok?"

"I am fine. Thanks to you, as I was informed. I am most grateful for your consideration. May I ask the reason for your discussion with Doctor Phlox?"

"Well, wasn't meant to be nosy or anything. I just thought, since you Vulcans don't usually drink alcohol, you probably won't have much experience with it. And trust me, the last thing you need is being seen staggering about the corridor with 20 degrees of list."

"In contrast to me, you appear to have ample experience."

_I'll be damned! Is she teasing me? _Trip thought with amusement. "Well, I have, Subcommander. Happened during the Warp 2 program, shortly after I met the Cap'n for the first time. We were in 602 and, well, we had more than one beer too much. God knows how I made it back to the quarters. I sprawled into a heap right in the corridor and most of my colleagues got a nice laugh out of seeing me trying to get to my feet again. I thought I would never hear the end of it. They teased me for weeks about it."

"I shall mention your most thoughtful use of previous experience to avert danger from a fellow crew member in the next crew evaluation, Commander" T'Pol said and shot him an ominous look over the top of her cup.

_Dammit, she did it again! _He thought and failed to hide a smile.


	3. Minefield

**Date:**August 18th, 2009  
**Legalese:**All characters belong to the powers that be and I can't do a damn thing.  
**Genre:**TnT, Missing Scene  
**Setting:**Through Season 2

3. Minefield

"Nice; Whoever this was, they've just condemned me to a week of double shifts." Trip growled to himself as he made his way towards the bridge. At least the headcount had proven that no hands were lost. Engineering was an utter mess. Plasma fires and conduits that blew up randomly made it the least desirable place on the ship right now, except for the decompressed sections of course.

Trip was grimy, sweaty and his uniform had more than one scorch mark. The quartermaster would probably tease him again relentlessly for showing up with the request for a new uniform. The one that he wore was barely a week old and now it was scorched. No one needed a new uniform as often as the ship's chief engineer.

_Wonder how T'Pol takes that. If human smell is offensive to her, __**my**__ smell must be downright insulting by now. Engineering is a damn hellhole with all them plasma fires, _Trip thought to himself and started tugging at his uniform, which stuck to his skin, where he was sweating most profoundly. He was feeling a bit embarrassed to show up on the bridge in such a state, but the Captain's voice had been stern enough for him to know, that the boss needed his report as soon as possible.

When the door to the bridge hissed open, T'Pol knew immediately, who was entering. A short glance confirmed her nasal assessment – it was Commander Tucker and if his disheveled state was anything to go by, his earlier report from engineering was not exaggerated. Her eyes followed him until he was standing beside the captain and delivered his report. Her keen sense of smell picked up his strong perspiration and his smell masked out the scent of all other crew on the bridge. Contrary to Trips concerns however, it was not insulting her senses. T'Pol had yet to find a logical explanation, but Trip's scent was the only one aboard that did not bother her.

* * *

"Tucker to Engineering," Trip sighed into the com at the engineering station on the bridge.

"Engineering, Hess here."

"Anna, send Rostov and a team to prepare detachment of the section of hull plating. Make sure you reroute all EPS conduits, don' need anymore blow ups than we have already."

"Aye, Sir."

* * *

"Commander, the Captain is right. You are most likely the most important crew member at the moment. We need your expertise here," T'Pol explained after the Captain had left to help Malcolm – under much protest from Trip, who deemed the mission too dangerous for the Captain and himself the better prospect to get the job done. T'Pol was standing right beside him and even Travis had noticed, that her 'lecture' was missing the usual Vulcan know-it-all undercurrent. It sounded almost encouraging.

Trip just nodded and continued to monitor the status of engineering, while T'Pol returned to her station.

* * *

"Bridge to sickbay, Doctor, how is the condition of Ensign Sato?"

"She is conscious and if you can come down here, she may be able to assist you."

"Ensign Mayweather, you have the bridge. Commander Tucker, you come with me." T'Pol ordered calmly and left the bridge with the still grimy Chief engineer in tow.

"I didn't want to ask you that in front of the others, but do you think it is such a good idea to leave the bridge with just a handful of ensigns?" Trip asked as he walked alongside T'Pol, towards sickbay. "Those guys out there aren't here to pay us a courtesy visit."

"I appreciate your consideration of my authority. However, Ensigns Mayweather and Porter are sufficiently trained to man the helm and the tactical station. In his last crew report Lieutenant Reed singled out Ensign Porter for her excellent tactical skills."

"Ok, I'll take your word for it. What do you need me for in sick bay?"

"We are in a critical situation. The Captain is on the hull, our communications officer – one of the most important members of my department - is only partially fit for duty. I would appreciate your assistance to handle the situation most efficiently."

_Damn, she almost blatantly admitted to being insecure. Better not to screw up now or she crawls back in that Vulcan shell o' hers. _

"I'll help wherever I can," he replied with an encouraging smile.

* * *

"Damn!" Trip cussed as he ducked away from a fountain of sparks. "If it goes on like that we're gonna end up sitting duck." He heard footsteps approaching from behind – very familiar footsteps.

"Are you injured?" T'Pol asked.

"Don't worry, it's just a scratch. If those damn conduits keep blowing up, we'll soon be out of spares."

_What she's doing here in the middle of the night? _

"How long have you been on duty now?"

_Ok, today's repeat lesson for the chief engineer – overexertion, _Trip thought slightly annoyed.

"Second shift is about to end in a few minutes. Someone has to nail the ship back together," he preemptively protested the predictable lecture.

"It would be most unfortunate in our current situation if the chief engineer became incapacitated, because the hammer hit his thumb during the 'nailing', Commander. Please follow me to the mess hall."

_Say what you want, she's getting the hang of how to tease me. This starts to get even more entertaining, _Trip thought while putting his tools away.

"Rivers! Can you finish replacing those conduits?"

"Aye, Sir."

* * *

Trip sat down heavily at the table. As long as he had been working, he hadn't noticed the fatigue, but now that he relaxed, the day's hardships claimed their tribute. T'Pol was approaching with two cups.

"I have selected tea for both of us, Commander. Coffee would most likely be a counterproductive choice at this hour."

"Gee, thanks mom," he smiled. "How's Hoshi?"

"I do not know. I have not been in sickbay since the end of the crisis. But it is logical to presume, that her situation is stable and under control."

"Hm; So, today's lesson for our science officer – bedside manner."

"I do not understand. Am I doing something wrong?"

"Well, not exactly. You are **not **doing something at all. If people from my department are injured or sick and have to stay off duty, I check in on them from time to time. That way they are reassured that they're important to my department and not just an exchangeable crewman. And besides, wasting away in sickbay or one's quarters all day is boring like hell, so they're always welcoming the distraction."

"So you suggest, that I shall pay Ensign Sato a visit?"

"I'm sure she'd like that. It's a good method to improve the climate in your department."

"I shall think about your advice."

* * *

Following Trip's advice, T'Pol visited Hoshi in her quarters during next day's lunch break.

"Come in." Hoshi called after the door chime rang. T'Pol entered.

"Subcommander? Did we receive another transmission?"

"No, Ensign. I came to inquire about your healing process."

Hoshi's face broke into a smile. "That's very kind of you, Subcommander. Please have a seat. Dr. Phlox insisted that I stay another day in bed, before I can return to duty. I'm expected to visit him in sickbay tomorrow morning and if everything is ok, I'll be allowed back on duty for the day shift."

"That is gratifying to hear."

"May I ask you something, Subcommander?"

"Please."

"I appreciate your visit a lot, but I'm wondering. It hasn't been your normal practice until now..."

"I learned several weeks ago, that members of my department found their work disagreeable and sought reassignment to a different department. Commander Tucker, who's department appears to be most popular among the crew, has helped me with valuable advice."

"You may like it to hear, that Commander Tucker's advice worked so far. The atmosphere in the department has much improved over the last weeks."

"That is agreeable. May I ask you a personal question myself, Ensign?"

"Sure."

"I am confused about the Commander's behavior. Although my interaction with the crew, including Commander Tucker, has improved, he still has the tendency to engage me in inconsequential provocations. He is continually trying to get me to reveal my age or addresses me as his mother, if I make a remark about his well being. He knows, that this is discomforting – although only mildly - yet he does not desist. I recently started to return the gesture of mild provocations to get him to stop it, but instead of being discomforted, he appears amused. It's entirely illogical."

Hoshi started laughing, which perturbed T'Pol even more. "You find this amusing, Ensign?"

"Yes, Subcommander," Hoshi answered with a smile. "We call that behavior teasing. And the Commander is amused, because he finally got you to return the favor. "

"So the Commander expected me to... tease him? Where is the logic in that behavior?"

"I can't speak for certain, but it would appear that Commander Tucker likes you. The Captain and Malcolm are the only other people, he teases like that, so he probably considers you a friend."

"That would explain several aspects. Thank you, Ensign. I would appreciate if this conversation remained confidential." T'Pol said with an elevated eyebrow and stood up to go.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. You're welcome, Subcommander." Hoshi answered smilingly and watched the science officer leave.

_And I bet she likes him, too. _Hoshi thought after the door hissed shut.


	4. Dead Stop

**Date: **August 18th, 2009  
**Legalese: **All characters belong to the powers that be and I can't do a damn thing.  
**Genre: **TnT, Missing Scene  
**Setting:** Through Season 2

Authors Note: This was a challenge, since not much TnT interaction was present in the actual episode, as was in many episodes of the second season. That's why this is going to be shorter than your usual delivery.

4. Dead Stop

"Captain, you've gotta try this," Trip urged Archer after the strange resequencer had produced an excellent catfish.

"Thanks, but I'll stick with whatever Chef's serving. I'll be on the bridge." Archer left hurriedly. He was obviously quite upset about the uninvited scan of the ship.

"He's got no idea, what he's missing," Trip muttered and decided to enjoy his cat fish. "Ice tea!" he commanded the strange device to complete his meal.

Once he had all components of his feast he sat at one of the nearby tables. To his amazement, T'Pol walked up to the device and ordered a Vulcan Plomeek broth to go with her glass of water and she sat down on the same table across from Trip and began eating as well.

Trip broke into a wide grin, which caught T'Pol's attention.

"You find this amusing, Commander?"

"Well, yeah. To be honest I was expecting a lecture about wasting time on duty rather than you joining me for a meal. Mind you, I'm not complaining."

"It is lunchtime anyway; It is logical to use this opportunity to eat. It will be a good opportunity to raise crew morale by allowing other crew members to use this facility as well."

* * *

"What is it, Commander?" T'Pol asked after a while, when she noticed that Commander Tucker was still smiling.

"Don't know if it would be such a smart move to tell you," he answered and T'Pol noticed that his face turned red. She had learned that this was a human sign of uneasiness or embarrassment.

"It is not typical for you to be ill at ease to speak about something," T'Pol replied calmly, realizing that she had caught Commander Tucker digging himself a nice hole to fall into. According to Ensign Sato's explanations, this was a perfect time to engage in human 'teasing'.

"Well, uh; I hope you're not offended Subcommander, but this almost feels like a date and I haven't been on one since almost two years," Trip admitted and tried hard to avoid any eye contact with T'Pol.

"I see no reason to take offense. As far as I am familiar with human socializing customs, dates are conducted by either mates or individuals, who consider each other friends. I take it that you do consider me a friend then?" She knew that this direct approach would make him even more uncomfortable. It was surprising, how the one human, who always had an answer to everything, could get so tongue-tied when dealing with her.

"Well, uh, yes. Actually I do," Trip said warily, not sure what her reaction would be.

"In this case I suppose, your … 'feeling' is justified."

Trip sat up ramrod straight – his eyes wide in astonishment. "Uh, does that mean, if I would ask you on a date – theoretically of course – you wouldn't turn me down?"

"Theoretically, of course, if it would not interfere with my duties or other plans, no."

Trip knew exactly that this was a close as he would ever get her to admit that she considered him a friend or whatever the Vulcan equivalent would be. He had to fight the urge to dig deeper and try to extort an exact admission. The importance of what she had just admitted in a roundabout way was too valuable, however, to risk it by annoying her.

* * *

Vulcans do not laugh, else T'Pol would have doubled over screaming in laughter about the ridiculous scene that had just unfolded. Literally out of thin air Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed had appeared on the bridge, crawling on all fours.

"Good evening, Subcommander," the Chief engineer stammered in obvious embarrassment.

A raised eyebrow indicated, that the Subcommander didn't quite understand what had happened. Although the position, in which she saw her fellow officers, was less than professional conduct, and anything but common workplace practice, she found herself unable to launch into one of her trademark lectures about proper behavior for an officer. No doubt humans would call her emotional state 'amused'.

"I surmise that you have an explanation for your unusual posture Commander?"

"Uh... well... it's kind of a long story, Subcommander," Trip muttered in obvious embarrassment.

"I wanna hear it," Captain Archer growled and summoned both officers to his ready room.

Malcolm shot Trip a 'told you so' look as they followed the Captain.

* * *

"I smell a rat," Trip said and shook his head. The mysterious death of Travis had taken the whole crew by surprise. Quite out of character, the Chief Engineer had not said much until now. T'Pol would have allowed herself an indulgence in feeling gratified, if it wasn't for the sad reason behind the human's uncharacteristically subdued demeanor. By any means, this had been the quietest of the many meals she had shared with him.

"I doubt that Chef uses rodents to prepare his meals and it is unjust to make such allegations."

Normally Trip would have laughed about her confusion with his colorful figures of speech, but he was too lost in his own emotional turmoil. "No, T'Pol, it's a figure of speech. It means that I think, the whole situation is suspicious. Travis would never disobey an order that blatantly. I'll be damned if that station out there hasn't got anything to do with it."

"The Captain finds the station suspicious as well. Maybe there is reason for added caution."

"Well, lets hope Phlox finds something," Trip sighed as silence befell their meal again.


	5. A Night In Sickbay

**5. A Night In Sickbay**

_A/N: This is where it gets really tricky. There is absolutely NO interaction between T'Pol and Trip in this episode and don't get me started on the hideous Archer/T'Pol scenes... So this one might be a tad contrived, but it's the best I can come up with – you just can't make sweets from a turd *sigh* There's a deleted scene that was not shown on TV, between Trip and Archer. I used that to create a TnT scene._

"What the hell!" Trip growled behind his engineering station and wordlessly ran into the turbo lift.

"Second that," Archer muttered wide-eyed and shot T'Pol a bewildered look. "Last time I checked, it was mandatory to ask before leaving the bridge. Any idea what that was all about?"

"Commander Tucker's conduct as an officer is far from exemplary, but overt disregard of the rules is not usually part of his behavior, so it is logical to assume that something happened, which merits his departure without your permission."

Archer's look got even more bewildered. He had expected his FO to agree on Trip's misconduct, hearing her defend his actions came as a surprise. "What could possibly have happened?" he snapped. "We weren't shot at for a change, the ship's recently been repaired. Did we run into a galactic pothole?"

Before T'Pol could deliver her stern volley, Trip's voice came over the com.

"Cap'n, sorry for running out, but we have a major problem down here. One of the injectors is fried and I had to take it offline."

"As far as I know, we have 5 of those," the Captain returned in unhidden annoyance. "Why the dramatic exit?"

"Because we NEED all 5 of them," Trip answered and his annoyance was palpable as well. "I'll have to make some makeshift repairs to the engine, but running on four injectors is pressing our luck. We have no more spares and unless you fancy a 12 year ride to Jupiter station, we better find a way to get ourselves a new injector. Tucker out."

Everybody on the bridge knew that Archer and Tucker were friends, so hearing the Chief engineer openly snap at the Captain could only mean that the situation was serious.

* * *

"Coffee, black!" Trip ordered in exhaustion. He had spent all night trying to repair the damaged injector to no avail. Ready to return to engineering with his coffee he headed for the door, but stopped when a familiar face caught his attention. Although the face was familiar, its expression was not.

"Hi," he sighed, plopping down on a chair without invitation. "I know you're going to say that Vulcans don't get annoyed, but your face sure looks like it."

"Considering that you have spent more time than anybody on this ship to evoke that condition, it is no surprise that you noticed it, despite my best efforts to hide it." Her voice was oozing with sarcasm.

Trip was unsure whether to take it as an insult or a compliment, but it was visible that this was more serious than her usual annoyance with his frequent teasing. "Well, we've barely talked to each other the last few days...," he answered, ready to apologize for an offense he didn't yet know about.

"You are not responsible... surprisingly. I do not know how to deal with the current crisis. It appears that we have reached an impasse."

"Care to tell me?" Trip offered, despite his hurry to return to engineering.

"The Captains pet, Porthos, has been infected while we were down on the planet and the Kreetassans knew that he would be vulnerable, but did not notify us. While we were on the surface, Porthos... urinated on a tree."

"Let me guess, for Kreetassans it is a sacrilege to pee on a tree," Trip continued. By now everybody on board had heard about the Kreetassans and their tendency to get insulted if one looked at them slightly cross-eyed.

"They consider the particular tree a cultural treasure and demand an apology, but the Captain refuses to do so. In fact he threatened to repeat the act if Porthos does not survive."

"Now I understand where this is going to. Want me to talk to him?"

"That would not be advisable. Your need for a new injector is the reason for us being here. The Captain – illogically - appears to blame the current crisis partially on you. I would however appreciate any advise on how to approach the situation."

"I had a grade school teacher who was certain I stole a pencil off her desk. I think it was a pencil. She wasn't going to let me go on the field trip to Pensacola unless I apologized. My mother told me I should tell her I was sorry, but I said I didn't steal the damn pencil. You know what she told me? It's okay to apologize when you shouldn't have to, just as long as you don't mean it. "

"Your point, Commander?"

"My point is, actually it is them who need to apologize, because they knew Porthos was in danger, but didn't tell us. But that's not going to give us a new injector. You must convince him that he needs to do what they're expecting and do another of those ridiculous apology rituals, even if he doesn't mean it."

"I see. Thank you, Commander," she replied and left.

* * *

"How are the repairs progressing?" T'Pol asked as she entered engineering. Her keen sense of smell told her that this particular human had not seen the inside of a shower for a very considerable period of time. Thankfully the smell of his was the one that – inexplicably – did not bother her as opposed to the 84 others on board.

"Well, I think we're good to go in about 2 hours," he replied and his exhaustion was palpable. "It's not 100% Starfleet spec, but fully compatible and they even gave us two spares. Cap'n must have put on quite a show down there."

"A recently discovered talent of his, it appears," she replied and the frustration in her voice was badly hidden.

Trip swung around looking at her. "Sit down," he ordered and T'Pol looked at him in a mix of expectation and confusion.

"Look, T'Pol. That's the second time in a few days that you fail to hide your emotions and I think that's not a coincidence. I know you good enough by now. You would never just ask for help, but you've gotten good at making me know when to offer it. I'm fine with that, probably some sort of Vulcan protocol. So what is it?"

She decided to not to deliver any lectures or retort the slight jab at Vulcan protocol, because essentially he had been right, but this was not the time to admit it. Instead she decided to address the issue.

"The Captain has made innuendos of... intimate nature." The last words were barely above a whisper.

Trip took a seat on a large toolbox, facing her. "How... intimate?" Trip asked and his stern voice made it clear that this was an issue not even the ships usually humor radiating engineer would joke about.

"Sexual innuendos. I believe it is known in human psychology as a 'Freudian slip'."

Trips relief at seeing that the issue wasn't as serious as he had feared was duly noted.

"You appear to be less concerned. I find it rather disconcerting. Knowing that the Captain harbors a sexual attraction to me could create problems to work together"

"Guess it's time to let you in on some human secrets. Pretty much every male on the ship 'harbors an attraction' to you, that does not mean however that anyone plans to act on it." he mimicked her stilt speak. "If the usual Vulcan clothes as opposed to your snazzy suits are any indication, I suppose that looks do not matter a lot on Vulcan. But they matter for humans and just in case you haven't noticed yet, you are one stunningly beautiful creature and that makes you attractive to any male, who isn't gay."

"But it is inappropriate, it could create tension."

"And the Cap'n knows that. Trust me he would never make a move on you. This mission means way too much for him to risk being pulled off the ship for any stupid advances on his First Officer."

"Your assessment is reassuring, so would it be appropriate to rest the case and just ignore his statement?"

"Probably yes, although it wouldn't hurt to talk to him about it. Let him know that you don't want any tension between you and him because of it. Just don't make him apologize, I have a feeling he's got enough of that lately. Guess I'll better finish my job," he said and stood up to continue his work on the new injector.

"Thank you for your advice. One last question Commander," T'Pol asked while getting ready to leave. "Does your earlier assessment about the males on this ship include you as well?"

"Last time I checked, I wasn't gay, Subcommander" he said with a slight blush and disappeared behind the engine.


	6. Marauders

6. Marauders

A/N. _This scene carries over from chapter 5, which ended in T'Pol coaxing Trip into a rather blush inducing admission. This however has slight repercussions for the First Officer of Enterprise. This chapter also contains some sort of review of earlier episodes all the way since "Broken Bow". It helps with understanding, if you have read Alelou's missing scenes for season 1. _

_snazzy :_

(Clothing & Fashion) _Informal_ (esp of clothes) stylishly and often flashily attractive

T'Pol let out a slight sigh. It was an agreeable gesture of Ensign Hoshi Sato to provide her superior officer with an ever growing database of human colloquialisms and she had added more on the fly, whenever one of the humans more colorful metaphors were encountered – not surprisingly most times coming from the ship's chief engineer – but often the explanation itself lead directly to the next search.

_flashy: _

1. Cheap and showy; gaudy.

2. Giving a momentary or superficial impression of brilliance.

Somehow one word kept recurring – _attractive _and a rather disagreeable thought entered her mind as she lit her meditation candle. _Could this be more than an unfortunate coincidence?_

While she began her meditation, she recalled the days before _Enterprise's first _mission. She had been the right hand of Vulcans Ambassador to Earth and she had found it slightly confusing that she – a young aide to the Ambassador rather than a seasoned veteran of the Ministry of Security had been selected for the position as a Vulcan observer on the Earth vessel. She had been even more perturbed by the strange choice of uniform, which at best was... revealing. There were no opacity deficits and they were very helpful in keeping her warm in the cold environment that fit the human physiology, but usually Vulcan clothing did not emphasize one's statue in such an overt manner.

It was Commander Tuckers honest, if not blush inducing, admission that she was - T'Pol tried to remember his exact words – '_a stunningly beautiful creature' _which started her thinking and the pieces started to fall in place to complete the picture. As Commander Tucker had explained, her agreeable appearance was attractive to all male humans, except those, who... She snapped back to the here and now and returned to her computer console.

_gay:_

1. Of, relating to, or having a sexual orientation to persons of the same sex.

2. Showing or characterized by cheerfulness and lighthearted excitement; merry.

3. Bright or lively, especially in color: a gay, sunny room.

4. Given to social pleasures.

5. Dissolute; licentious.

Of all the given choices, only one made sense in the context of Commander Tuckers explanation and T'Pol immediately suppressed the flare of agreeable emotions coming from Tuckers explanation that he was not gay, when he last time evaluated himself. Chiding herself inwardly for the unbecoming emotions, she returned to meditation.

As it became clear now, the High Command had deliberately selected her, an attractive female, emphasizing the effect on humans by selecting unusually revealing uniforms. Obviously they had expected her to use the predictable attraction of males to exert influence on the predominantly male command crew. That was not only illogical, but also very low. But nothing else had she come to expect of her home world's governing body, lately.

That was a stark contrast to her human crew mates. Without even trying they had shattered most of her preconceptions, many of which stemmed from indoctrination by the High Command. Yes, they were emotional and illogical at times, but they also showed an immense amount of restraint that the High Command would never credit to them. The issue at hand was a prime example for that. According to Commander Tucker, approximately 40 males were attracted to her and never had one of them made even so much as an innuendo – until Captain Archer – way over a year into the mission. A stark contrast to the characterizations of the High Command.

The biggest surprise of them all was – without doubt – the Chief Engineer. He was by far the most emotional and at times most irritating of all the humans on board, yet he showed qualities that had won him her respect. While his relentless teasing and his seemingly carefree attitude made him appear unprofessional at times, when it came down to business, he became professional in an instant. He was also honest to a fault – his admission of accidentally reading her letter was proof of that. Would a Vulcan have disclosed such unintentional breach of privacy? Would **she herself **have done it? Hardly. Yet this human did. Maybe that was the reason for the fact that she had come to see him as a reliable source of input in her effort to gain a better understanding of humans.

After her crew mates had stood up for her against Captain Sopek, she had inwardly abandoned her ties with the High Command. It was illogical to continue a mission as a chaperone for a governing body, that was capable of trying to bring her home in disgrace to cover up their own deviant and dishonorable activities. It was far more logical to help those humans achieve their mission's success, rather than observing and dismissing them. They had far more potential than anybody credited them for. In order to help them, it was imperative to gain a more thorough understanding of them.

For all his occasional deficiencies in proper conduct and discipline, they had fortunately become rarer as the mission progressed, Commander Charles Tucker III, was a member of the crew, who 'gets the job done', as Ensign Sato had once explained. It had taken her a while to grasp the true meaning of the human phrase, but when she did, her perception of the Chief Engineer's conduct had shifted to a more agreeable one. His devotion to the ship and especially its propulsion unit was second to none. Whenever the vessel fell into disrepair, it became his top priority to repair it, to the point that he foreswore tending to basic needs, like food or sleep. On more than one occasion, he had referred to the ships propulsion as 'his engines', although the structure was Starfleet property.

Despite the fact that engineering had by far the most heavy and dangerous workload, that department was easily the most popular on the ship. On more than one occasion she had been told, that the Chief Engineer was the main reason for the departments popularity. Vulcan view on humans dictated, that he would be engaging in outward manifestation of superiority and arrogance, but on the contrary, he had defended her against disgruntled members of the science department and had invested countless hours in helping her to improve the interaction with her own departments crew and according to Ensign Sato's testimony, the results were profoundly agreeable.

Recently, she had finally grasped the concept, which humans referred to as 'friendship'. It was, technically, a description of a close, non intimate relationship between two individuals, who were not relatives. While the concept wasn't entirely unknown on Vulcan, even the best, long time acquaintances were kept at a respectful distance. By Vulcan standards she had allowed Commander Tucker way too much access to what a Vulcans considered private, even intimate, knowledge. She had discussed her wedding plans and the changes of them with him, spoken about the recent slips of the Captain and she spent a lot more time with him than with any other member of the crew. It became apparent, that Commander Tucker had become a friend – in the human sense. According to his recent admission during their stay at the automated repair station, he considered her a friend for some time already.

T'Pol returned from her meditative thinking, which had not done much to put her mind at ease, but she found herself peculiarly content with her recent findings. The short lived crisis with Captain Archer appeared to be averted after a short talk in his ready room and Commander Tucker's recent admission was not so disagreeable after all. After extinguishing the meditation candle she prepared for the evening shower and peeled herself out of the 'snazzy suit'. She mustered her image in the mirror and saw herself as someone attractive to others for the first time in her life, the barrage of confusing emotions, caused by this discovery was unsettling.

* * *

They were all standing inside one of the shabby modules, when the Klingons beamed down. T'Pol faced Archer and Trip and put her finger over her lips to signal them that silence was needed. Understanding the gesture, the two men fell silent, while T'Pol concentrated on the discussion that ensued a fair distance away.

"Can you make out what they're saying?" Trip asked. He knew Vulcan hearing was better than human, but the sheer distance beggared belief.

"Tessic is explaining that their yield isn't what they'd hoped," she explained.

"Good ears," Trip shot back with a smile.

T'Pol knew instantly that this was a deliberate ambiguity, complimenting her both on the functioning and the appearance of her ears and she found herself inwardly satisfied by both meanings. Not too much later push came to shove outside and T'Pol knew instinctively, that Commander Tucker would not idly watch a man getting battered, so logically, he would try to rush to his rescue at any second. As soon as she noticed his move towards the door, she swung around rapidly and grabbed his wrist. She shook her head in a 'NO' motion and was surprised by his instant adherence to her unspoken request to stay.

For no conscious reason, she did not let go of his wrist after being assured of his staying inside and returning to listen to the far away conversation. Archer shot Trip a lopsided grin at being held like a disobedient child by the ship's First Officer. Little did he know that Trip ate up every second with a spoon.

* * *

"That's the last one," Trip sighed heavily after he had helped T'Pol to extinguish the last of the burning wells. "Think the Klingons will come back?"

"Unlikely," she analyzed. "They came here, because the settlers were easily frightened. It appears that this is no longer the case."

"Hope so, these guys have been working their ass off only to be robbed senseless every year. Thanks god our plan worked out. Mind you though, those Klingons weren't exactly the sharpest tools in the box."

"Most likely not," she concurred, guessing the meaning of the colorful phrase from context.

"By the way, that was mighty impressive, how you roughed up that Klingon. Do you think one of us frail humans could learn some of that Vulcan kung-fu?"

"If you refer to the Suus Mahna, it is logical to assume that a human can learn most of the techniques. Are you trying to say that you wish to study the techniques of Suus Mahna?"

"Well, if I can find a teacher," Trip answered with a hint of teasing.

"I shall meet you at the gym then. Tomorrow 1800 hours," she instructed matter-of-factly.

"Wow... uh... thanks," Trip muttered in momentary confusion. Straight answers, especially with 'yes' as the main payload had not been T'Pol's strong suit so far. "Guess, I'll look for Q'ell. See you at the shuttlepod."

"Agreed," she countered. "Commander," she called after the rapidly retreating engineer.

"Yeah?"

"You don't look particularly frail to me."


	7. The Seventh

7. The Seventh

A/N. _This episode gave me rabies. Not only was it another craptastic Archer worship episode, it also abused Trip for comic relief by portraying him as an indecisive dolt while in command. Since – as in many season 2 episodes, which tried to shove an Archer/T'Pol relationship down our throats – there's practically nothing to work with for TnT scenes, a prefix and and a post-ep will have to do. I'm continuing the mini-arc, that I started in Chapter 5. _

_I've always wondered, why T'Pol was such a wreck about stunning Menos and then suddenly comes to grips with the situation to tell the captain 'I'm fine' in the final scene. This is my interpretation._

_There were people 'complaining' that the friendship between T'Pol and Trip is progressing too fast. But I think this is by necessity, because when we come to 'The Xindi' they must be close enough for T'Pol to agree to something as extremely intimate as neuropressure. I think it only makes sense if they're VERY close by then._

_Try to find the slight forward jab at "Harbinger" ;-)_

T'Pol shivered. This was the most illogical ideas she ever had. Thankfully there were no other Vulcans on board, so there was no one to witness the blatant hole in her logic.

This was, of course, mostly to blame on Commander Tucker, the very same person she was waiting for in the freezing cold gym. While his blatant praise of her appearance had stirred agreeable, if confusing, emotions in her, it had also caused an annoying consciousness about it. Although the temperature was moderately cool by human standards, for a species that evolved in the heat of a desert planet, it was freezing – even more so, for a Vulcan in a midriff showing tank top.

For the first time in a long while, she thought about her mother T'Les, a scientist like herself and most likely the genetic source of her curiosity. Although a helpful condition in science, curiosity was not universally appreciated on Vulcan and T'Pol started to see the reasons for that. It appeared as if her mother had been right, that T'Pol's curiosity might one day lead to rather unfortunate decisions, like the one she had made half an hour ago.

In an apparent lapse of logical reasoning, she had spent an illogically long time to adjust her hairdo to a slightly less military one and she had opted for the skimpier tank top instead of the normal training shirt. Her theory was, that this would improve her appearance and there was only one person, with whom she was comfortable enough to test it – the Chief Engineer. Obviously the first flaw in that theory was, that she failed to come up with a purpose for improving her appearance. According to Commander Tucker, it was already exceedingly agreeable. There was no logic to this whole experiment and the only way back to restoring logic was to cancel the experiment before it started.

The hiss of the opening door took that decision out of her hand as her new student entered the gym and stopped dead in his tracks – wide-eyed. Thankfully he noticed her uneasiness quickly and had the decency to straighten himself and to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Seeing that he wasn't going to make any remark – quite uncharacteristic for him – she decided to pretend ignorance of it herself.

"Please wear this protective gear to avoid injury."

"You're planning to rough me up?" he asked with a smirk.

"No, but since you are just starting your training, it is logical to assume that you will take unintended hits until you have mastered the defensive moves."

"Give me a hand?" he asked and took off his shirt to don the body armor.

"It appears you have been following a workout regime. That should be beneficial for the more demanding offensive moves," she noticed his considerably hunkier frame, compared to their encounter in the decon chamber over a year ago.

"Not really, its mostly courtesy of engineering. Running up and down the stairs, crawling through Jeffrey tubes and hurling toolboxes around all day is hard enough. There's probably no muscle in my body that doesn't get a good daily workout." Trip noticed the goosebumps on her arm, when she helped him fasten the latches of the protective gear, but said nothing for the moment. He had a theory, but it was better to wait for now. Instead of donning his shirt over the protective gear he folded it and put it on one of the benches.

"In our first exercise we'll start with the simple evasive technique, that I taught the colonists. You should be able to master it in one or two sessions. Take the staff and attack me frontally."

Trip struck without much force and T'Pol dodged either side of the staff and rolled away.

"We will do this exercise continually. After rolling away, get back into a defensive stance and prepare for the next attack. In case of a hit, the routine will be interrupted."

"I'm ready," he said and a moment later the staff smashed into his headgear and sent him flying.

"Are you injured?"

"Only my pride," he chuckled. "Guess that was a bit too quick for daddy's son."

"You were observing the staff. You need to observe me. Try to anticipate the target area of the imminent attack by observing my eyes and look out for the earliest signs of movement. Once the staff is moving it is too late to start the evasive move. I shall reduce the speed for the first lesson."

The second attempt was better. Trip managed 3 rolls, before he got knocked over again. The next attempt was about to start and Trip alternated between scanning her eyes and her upper arms for any stirs and saw that she started shivering.

"That's it," he huffed and went over to the bench, while T'Pol lowered the staff and raised an eye-brow in puzzlement. Trip grabbed the shirt and held it out to her. "Here, put that on."

"Vulcans do not wear someone else's attire."

"Then you'll be the first," he insisted and her discomfort won over her principles. Donning the shirt she prepared for uncomfortable questions.

Patting the bench he motioned her to sit and took off the uncomfortable head gear. "So what's this little game you're playing? Is that some sort of test?"

It was annoying, when that human engineer saw right through her. "It was an... ill advised experiment. I did not manage to break it off in time due to your premature arrival."

"So you decided to get a new mop," he pointed to her hair. "which looks better than the normal one, by the way and put on a skimpy tank top to see whether the engineer's eyes bug out? Well, congrats, they almost did. But it doesn't strike me as overly logical."

"As I said, it was ill-advised and not entirely logical. I fail to fully explain my motives."

"If you wanted to know, if that looks better; sure as hell does. But it isn't worth freezin' your butt off. Better just be yourself, has worked pretty well so far. Still freezing?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Ok, then let's continue."

* * *

"Let's find our buddy Trip," Archer said, while petting Porthos. It was time for the dog's evening walk and he could combine that with the search for the engineer. Water polo was way more fun, when watched with in company.

"Lieutenant," Archer called when he saw Trips XO in the corridor. A visit to Trips quarters had proven unsuccessful. Anna Hess snapped to attention immediately.

"As you were," the Captain calmed her. "I'm looking for your Chief."

Anna looked at her watch. "It's 1830, he's probably still in the gym."

"Trip? In the gym?" Archer asked in disbelief. "Thank you Lt."

"Let's get you home," Archer told Porthos, still shaking his head. Trip in the gym, he had to see that.

* * *

"Did you walk through the ship in that top?" Trip huffed while rolling away from another attack.

"Yes," T'Pol answered. "My quarters are not far. You are making excellent progress," she changed the topic. This was however true. It had been at least 4 minutes, since she had last managed to land a hit.

"Well, that's nice to hear, but I should've put some padding in that gear."

Both missed the hiss of the opening door, they were too immersed in their banter while trying to outmaneuver each other.

"Do you need a break?" she asked and changed the direction of attack, but he easily dodged it again.

"No way, lady, just keep going," he pressed while seamlessly getting up from the latest roll.

"You should not overexert yourself."

"If **you **need a break, just say so, I'm fine."

"Very well," she said and increased the speed of her attack, but he again managed to get away from it. "I did not expect you to counter the attacks at that speed."

"Well, once I had riddled out the pattern of your movement, it became quite easy," he answered between breaths.

"You appear to observe me most thoroughly then," she deadpanned.

"You're hard to miss," he smirked before a hit on the head gear mowed him down.

Archer cleared his throat to make his presence known, while T'Pol lent Trip a hand to get up.

"Captain," they acknowledged in unison.

"I came here to search for my chief engineer and I find my two senior officers brawling," he said with a laugh.

"I agreed to teach Commander Tucker some Suus Mannah techniques."

"Can't hurt probably, considering his dismal track record on away missions."

"Thanks, Cap'n," Trip said and rolled his eyes. "What do you need me for?"

"I was meaning to ask, if you'd like to drop by for a game and a beer, when I heard that you're in the gym, I just had to see that."

"Sorry, Cap'n maybe tomorrow. We're plannin' on another 30 minutes of training and after that I'll probably be too beat for anything. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Ok, tomorrow then, good night."

* * *

Jonathan Archer was cranky. Seemingly everything slipped from his control. As if his embarrassing slips in sickbay weren't enough. The night after finally getting the new injectors, Trip had taken him aside for a 'chat between friends' and had explained him in no uncertain terms, that he had made an utter fool of himself. Thankfully Trip seemed unaware what had happened in sickbay, but Archers fussing over Porthos and putting the dog's interests above the ship had not gone down well with the crew.

_Nice. My drop dead gorgeous FO is off-limits, my best friend thinks I'm a blithering idiot and now this secret mission, nobody tells me anything about. I feel like a damn passenger on my own ship! _he thought and smashed the ball against the wall again. Finding his Chief engineer and his FO in a private lesson, bantering like old buddies, with her wearing his shirt, unless Vulcans had 'Florida' shirts, hadn't helped matters a lot. These two were obviously quite comfortable in each others company. Trip had always shown a talent to get along with people, so it didn't come as a surprise that he would even crack T'Pol's Vulcan armor, but somehow it nagged him, that he couldn't establish the same familiarity with his First Officer. After several days of mulling he had finally made his peace with the fact that T'Pol would never allow any personal, let alone romantic, relationship, but a purely professional one didn't seem to be the real thing either. And Trip was the one who seemingly had found the key.

The door chime pulled him out of his misery. The door opened and T'Pol stepped in.

"If the Vulcan High Command doesn't approve of the water polo match I'm watching I'd be happy to find another, " Archer opened sarcastically.

* * *

Trip slammed his fist against the airlock as soon as the shuttle had left. _Nice! Run off with T'Pol and leave me hangin' back here. What am I supposed to say if Forrest calls. "Yeah, sorry, Cap'n __ran off with the resident Vulcan and din' tell us where and how long. Maybe he'll send a damn postcard!"_

"Tucker to Reed."

"Reed here."

"Meet me in the Captains mess, we'll discuss the schedule over breakfast."

"Aye, Sir."

* * *

"Good evening."

"Evening," Trip answered as he strode into the gym. It was the first time he saw T'Pol after her return from the mysterious mission.

"You ok? You look quit beat."

"I'm fine. I'm just slightly exhausted."

"We can skip practice if you're not up to it."

"That won't be necessary," she said and helped him with the straps of his gear.

Practice commenced, but something was wrong. This was way to easy. It felt like an eternity, but it were probably just 6 or 7 minutes and Trip was getting tired after the umpteenth roll. T'Pol had not managed a single hit so far. When she launched the next attack, Trip didn't move and the staff hit his head, but unlike usually there was barely any force behind it.

"You're afraid to injure me," he said calmly. "Last time you knocked me over and it took me 2 meters to find the brakes, this one wouldn't knock over a cup of coffee. What's wrong T'Pol."

"Nothing is wrong. You were probably right. I might be too exhausted."

"I really thought you trust me," he sighed with barely hidden disappointment. He stroked through his hair and shook his head in disbelief and growing disappointment-fueled anger. "What happened on that damn mission? I'm left hanging like a dam wet towel with no idea where the ship's Captain and First Office went or for how long, so I can make a real monkey's breakfast of the first time as ranking officer. And then you come back and sugar coat me as if you would kill me, if you hit me with a damn stick."

Angry, he yanked the head gear off went to the bench to stop the session prematurely, not noticing the openly shocked expression on her face, when she heard the k-word.

"I might have killed an innocent man," she said in a weak voice, sinking down on the bench. Trip swung around, in shock.

"Damn, I really have a knack to make myself look like a damn idiot, lately. Sorry, what I said was stupid."

"No it isn't. I cannot give you detailed information about this mission. It is classified. During a similar mission before my time on Earth. I shot a man. He died and may have been innocent. I was unable to suppress the guilt that resulted from that. I underwent the Fullara ritual in the sanctuary at P'Jem. But during this mission, the suppressed memories returned."

"Suppressed memories? They brainwashed you?"

"It is a crude, but sufficiently accurate comparison. If one is not able to control the emotions, resulting from a certain memory, the Fullara ritual suppresses that memory permanently. It apparently did not work in my case and I do not yet know, how to deal with it. We are far from any sanctuaries, it may take a considerable time to undergo the ritual again. Your observation is correct I experience an irrational fear of injuring you, most likely due to the returned memories. Guilt and remorse are two of the strongest emotions and most difficult to deal with."

"So, if you can't got to let them wipe your memory again, why not try our way of dealing with that?"

"How do humans suppress such emotions?"

"We don't – we deal with them. And actually, you've already started to do it yourself."

"I do not understand."

"Well, we talk about them with people we trust, just like you and I at the moment. We can't suppress them. Theoretically, we could, but not for long. It would drive a human insane."

"How is conversation supposed to help?"

"Well the worst thing to do, if you're guilt-ridden or grieving, is sitting around alone and stew in your misery. Coincidentally, that's exactly what Vulcans would do. So if you want this to work, you'll have to drop some of those rules and you'll probably have to stop telling me 'Vulcans don't do this', 'Vulcans don't do that'. You have already admitted that you're afraid. That's a good start. I can only help you cope with it human style, if you play by human rules."

"I shall try, if you agree to help me."

"Deal."

"How do you deal with disturbing images that come to your sleep?"

"Nightmares? Well that's the tricky bit. They'll be around for a while, but they subside. When I had nightmares as a kid, my mom usually sat at my bedside until I fell asleep again. Later when I was grown up, I usually talked to a friend. Called the Captain or my sister Lizzie more than once in the middle of the night when I had terrible nightmares after an accident, some years ago."

"I can not call you in the middle of the night. You would lose time for much needed rest and if anybody saw you entering my quarters to... sit at my bedside or to talk to me it would provide inappropriate material for the ship's rumor mill."

"First of all. You're talking to the man, who has skipped more than one night to nail the ship back together. And I'm most certainly not going to make an public announcement about it, if I have to come to your cabin when you have a rough time. I'm very well able to check that the coast is clear before I enter."

"And you are convinced that these methods work for a Vulcan?"

"There's no guarantee for success, but you'll never know before you tried. I'll be there if you need me and don't be shy to call me, even at the unholiest of hours."

"Thank you, I shall do that."


End file.
